


Dressing Up

by SevenCorvus



Series: Avengers Porn Table [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Het, One Shot, PWP, Prompt Fic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenCorvus/pseuds/SevenCorvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was second nature by this point for Natasha to dress in whatever manner best suited the mission. Whether it be outfits that accentuated her figure, catching eyes and providing distraction, or ones that made her look deceivingly vulnerable, encouraging her opponents to underestimate her.</p><p>Prompt: dressup<br/>Characters: Nick Fury/Natasha Romanov</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dressing Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Camp NaNo and the prompt "dressup" on the [Avengers Porn Table](http://sevencorvus.livejournal.com/25545.html). Feedback is love and will be rewarded with cookies (and smut).

It was second nature by this point for Natasha to dress in whatever manner best suited the mission. Whether it be outfits that accentuated her figure, catching eyes and providing distraction, or ones that made her look deceivingly vulnerable, encouraging her opponents to underestimate her. She did not put much thought into it; it was merely another asset, another tool for her to use to accomplish her goals. It was not anything special.

It was those rare times when she was not on a mission, was not at SHIELD that she most enjoyed. When she could choose to wear sweats or loose fitting clothing, lounging around her apartment on a rare day off, letting go any kind of glamour or sex appeal. Other days, when she would go out shopping, trying to decide what she actually liked wearing, what her true tastes were, a luxury that she could only now afford.

Still, there were times that she enjoyed dressing up, enjoyed making herself look good, not for a mission, but for herself, and for her lover. Natasha knew she looked good, knew Nick desired her, but it became something of a game with her, wanting to impress, to inspire some kind of reaction. She would pick her outfits for their dates with the same care she would on a mission. Then watch his reactions closely, waiting for more than an honest compliment, Nick not being a big believer in unnecessary flattery, a slight widening of his eye, a tongue slipping out to wet suddenly dry lips, or a twitch of his fingers tempted to reach out to her.

She loved those times he could not quite resist, a foot suddenly rubbing along the side of one of his favorite pairs of heels under the table of the restaurant they were dining at. Sitting at a ballet or a play, feeling a hand sneaking under her skirt, and sliding up a stocking clad thigh, to rest there, heavy and hot with promise. Dancing with him in a club, Nick keeping her just a little too close, his hands a little too low on her waist, while he scared off anyone who looked at her too long. 

Those were the nights they barely got through the door before he was on her. Pulling her stockings down around her ankles, and moving her panties out of the way, before worshipping her with his tongue. Caressing her inner folds, then biting at her clit, soothing away the sting, as she shrieked above him. He would stroke her hips with his leather clad hands, nudging her thighs further apart, and pushing one finger, then two, into her, as she grinded down against him. Natasha’s head would fall back, the wall behind her the only thing keeping her steady, as her lover did his absolute best to drive her crazy with pleasure.

It was intoxicating, having this strong, powerful man on his knees for her, bringing his trademark intensity focused on her. They did not like to talk about their relationship; to put a label on whatever this was, though both knew that neither were the type to let someone into their home, their lives lightly. Nick might never tell her he loved her, perhaps not wanting to scare her off, or admit to a vulnerability, but times like these, she truly felt as if she was the only one for him and that kind of dressing up was definitely worth it.


End file.
